Midnight Phonecall
by E. M. Zeray
Summary: Through everything, they've been there for each other. It's hard to function when they're a thousand miles away from each other. However, that won't stop them from trying. Klaine. Fluffy, but hopefully heart-wrenching. T for minor suggestive content.


**A/N: For Nana and Mom**

There's a sound in the kitchen. That's the first thing Kurt registers in his mind as he awakes. It's a soft ticking and he listens for a few more moments before realizing that it's just the clock above the sink.

He rolls over and looks into the darkness of the room. A digital clock under the TV tells him that it's barely past two in the morning, and there is a bit of light coming from the window, thanks to the moon and the general brightness of the city. He is almost frustrated at himself for falling asleep on the couch in his new clothes, but when he got home he was too tired to care and even then he's too tired to care.

Now that he lives in his own apartment, he can turn on all the lights he wants if he doesn't want to go back to sleep and maybe even end up baking something if it turns out his insomnia is back. But for now, he kicks off his boots and sits up, just staring at the barely illuminated room for a moment.

Then he hears another noise.

It's a buzzing. Squishing his eyebrows together in confusion, he ponders for a moment and then hurriedly rummages around for his phone, wondering where it could have fallen. He eventually recovers it from under a cushion.

"Hello?"

"Did I wake you up?"

Kurt instinctively looks towards the kitchen again, where he has roses sitting in a vase.

"Kurt?"

"Oh, uh, no. I woke up a few minutes ago. Fell asleep on the couch."

On the other end of the line, all the way in Ohio, Blaine smiles. "How's your hair?"

"Oh, I didn't even think about it. Damn."

"Worry about it in the morning."

"Uh, is there a reason you called?"

Blaine is sitting on his bed in his old bedroom. He's wearing cotton pajama bottoms and a plain white T-shirt and he's staring at a mirror, wondering what made him call the boy that was a ten hour drive away. "How's the musical going?"

"Awesome. It's really great. You know opening night is in a week…"

"And I promise I'll be there. I'm, uh, getting caught up here, I guess, but I'll try to be back in time."

"I understand if you want to stay a little longer."

Blaine closes his eyes for a moment. "I hate myself, y'know," he whispers to the man on the other end of the line, feeling like his inner self is coming out, making every bit of him vulnerable, even though it's just a phone call.

"Blaine—"

"I shouldn't have said those things to you. Just because I was angry…"

"We were both angry. I love the roses, by the way."

"Good. But they don't really make up for the things I said."

"Blaine. Your mom just died. I think you can afford to be a little overemotional."

"I shouldn't have lashed out like that, though. I really am sorry. And…we're okay, right? Like when I get back…"

"Of course. I miss you." Kurt stands, walking around the couch to the kitchen nook and turning on the light. His eyes adjust after a moment and he sits on a stool, chin in the heel of his hand. "Carole called today. Or yesterday, I suppose. She said you came and visited them."

"Yeah. I needed to get away from the family for an afternoon. It's amazing how my dad still manages to make me feel awkward when I'm a 24 year old man and his wife just died." There was a pause on Blaine's side of the call as he tried to choose his words carefully. "I've been here for three weeks and you and I have barely talked, except for the phone sex that one time and the screaming match last week… Neither of which make me seem like a very good boyfriend." He sighed. "I miss you too, Kurt, by the way."

Kurt smiles, looking at the roses again. "How is your family doing?"

"They're okay. Or…not terrible. We're getting through it one day at a time."

"I wish you would've let me go with you."

"You're needed there, Kurt. Can't have you missing rehearsals."

"I barely have a speaking role, Blaine."

"You say words! My boyfriend is in a Broadway Musical and he has like…twenty lines. That's impressive. You're impressive."

Despite himself, Kurt can't help but blush. Suddenly, though, he feels antsy and stands to walk down the hall into his bedroom. "Yeah, well. Whatever."

"So what are you doing right now?"

"I fell asleep in my clothes so I'm gonna change into my actual pajamas before I crash again."

Blaine finally crawls under his covers and settles into the pillows. The rest of the house is silent, as it has been for the last few hours, while he was pacing and staring at the phone and then at his phone wallpaper—a picture of the two of them in Paris for their anniversary—and then at Kurt's contact in his address book. He doesn't actually need it. By now he's memorized the number, but it's a comfort to have it, as if he's constantly carrying Kurt with him. He refuses to admit that he's not carrying Kurt in his phone but in his heart. It still terrifies him, how much he loves the man.

"I've been thinking. When's the last time you saw Mercedes?"

"Christmas. Why?"

Blaine shrugs to himself before remembering it was a phone call. "No reason in particular. Just…we haven't talked her or Rachel or anyone recently. The last old New Directions member I spoke to was Finn yesterday. And before that it was Finn at your birthday party when they came for a visit. In fact, it's just been Finn since we moved to New York."

"It would be nice to see them again."

"Yeah… You changed yet?"

"Yeah. I'm going to the kitchen to bake something. I don't think I'll fall asleep again."

"Sorry."

Kurt smiles, pulling the in-case-of-emergency cookie dough roll out of the freezer. "It's not your fault. I probably would have stayed up thinking about you and trying to get the nerve to call you."

"After we fought I got so pissed at the world. I exploded at my dad and everyone. He's just being impossible. We're still trying to organize a date for a funeral. God, if I don't make it for opening night, I'll kill someone."

"Blaine, relax. It's not the end of the world."

"But… But it feels like it is, Kurt."

Kurt, still not understanding exactly what his boyfriend is trying to say, cradles the phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he slides the raw dough into the oven before saying, "Blaine, there will be more shows. I'm not gonna hate you because you didn't go to some silly opening night."

It's silent on the other end and, or a moment, Kurt thinks that Blaine has fallen asleep, but then he hears, "Everything's going wrong," in a raspy voice and he realizes that Blaine is crying.

He sets the timer before sitting down. "I'm listening."

"We're living paycheck to paycheck, especially with me working part time at that record store and attempting to write songs with Joey. People still, after all this time, treat us like we're freaks. Remember that ass outside that bar last month? God. I hate him. I hate people like him. I hate that my own father is still trying to change me and set me up with a woman. The only things I've been living for lately are the weekly phone calls from my mom and knowing that I get to wake up next to you every morning, hear you sing in the shower, dance with you in the kitchen, watch movies together and then end up not finishing them because we're too…" He clears his throat. "Distracted."

Kurt smiles softly.

"And then, all of a sudden, no forewarning, I get a phone call telling me that my mother is sick and dying. And suddenly, half of what I live for is gone. Just like that. How…how did you live with that? You were eight years old and your mom died, Kurt! I'm a man, an adult, and I just… I can't handle it. And on top of that, my amazing boyfriend gets this role in a musical and I can't get home to see it."

"First of all, it doesn't matter how old you are, Blaine. Even if you were forty when your mom died, you would have reacted the exact same way. Second of all—"

"Kurt, I need you to promise me something."

"Okay."

He takes a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm not good at dealing with things like this. I know… Courage and all that, but… But really, you've seen me at some of the worst times of my life and I just love you so much." He pauses again, wanting not to rant, but for this to be meaningful and short and perfect. "Everything I'm going through and everything that I will go through, all of the good moments and all of the bad…none of it will mean anything unless you're there. I know that I have a lot of really great people in my life, but you're the one person that I treasure more than any of them. Promise me, Kurt, that you'll always be in my life, no matter what."

Kurt notices that he isn't asking him to promise that they'll be together forever, because they both know that, even though they're in love, feelings can fade. Kurt feels like his love for Blaine is stronger than ever and knows that Blaine feels the same and he secretly rejoices in this fact, the thought that Blaine isn't falling out of love with him and most likely never will. This makes Blaine's promise beautiful. He isn't desperately asking Kurt to never leave him. He is simply making sure that Kurt knows how important, as a person, as a friend, he is to Blaine. He's more than a lover and a boyfriend. His whole person is someone that Blaine values.

Even if they were to one day, God forbid, break up and decide that they were better off without the other as a boyfriend, Blaine would still need him.

"We've been solid from the start, Kurt. I care about you so much… I just need you to know that. And I need you to reassure me that that isn't going to change."

Kurt's thoughts went to their fight. In the moment, he'd had his fair share of doubts about their relationship. It was their worst fight yet. They'd said such horrible things…

And then the roses came. They had just suddenly been there when he opened the door. He'd known that they were from Blaine the second he saw them and he had realized that their petty fighting was utterly ridiculous and there was no point. They loved each other. No amount of ugly words could change that, especially when the person saying the words didn't actually mean them.

"I'll always be a part of your life, Blaine, as long I have a say in it. I love you. As more than my boyfriend. As my best friend and the person I tell everything to, as the guy who's been there for me through thick and thin… You're so important to me, Blaine. Don't let anything convince you otherwise."

Blaine releases a breath and smiles, relaxing. "I won't."

"And don't work yourself up over opening night. You stay there as long as you need. Just try to call me when you can."

"I will."

"Say goodbye to your mom for me, at the funeral."

"She always liked you, even when she was still getting used to what I was. She secretly resented your knowledge in cooking and your fashion sense."

"What can I say? Everyone loves me."

Blaine chuckles to himself, the weariness in his bones and the weight of his eyelids getting more obvious every second. "Yeah, they sure do."

"I love you, Blaine."

"I love you too, Kurt. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know when the funeral is… If we've agreed by then."

"Hey, Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I won't be there to hold your hand."

00000

Blaine misses opening night.

The cast get standing ovations and perform the same musical to the same result every night for the rest of the week. But Sunday, they have a free day. The main cast is doing publicity so all of the smaller roles get the day off.

Kurt still isn't sure he's doing the right thing when he gets off the plane. But when he pulls up in front of the Anderson's house, he feels it in his chest. Blaine needs him there for this, just like Kurt needed his father when he was eight and how he needed Blaine when Pavarotti died.

So he rings the doorbell with only an eighth of the nervousness he had previously possessed.

A man he's only seen a few times before answers and pauses. "Kurt," he says.

Suddenly, Blaine is standing in the doorway. He echoes his father's word.

"Got the day off. Flew in as soon as I could—"

But his words end as Blaine launches himself at the man, wrapping his arms around him. For his father's sake, Blaine refrains from kissing him, but holds him tightly enough for it to be in more-than-friendly territory.

The funeral's Monday morning.

Blaine, who has managed to stay strong through the beginning—the dressing in black and going up to a podium with his family to talk about his mom—begins to cry when the coffin is lowered into the ground. Kurt grabs his hand, not caring what anyone else thinks because most of them have known about their relationship since it began, and starts humming "I Wanna Hold Your Hand."

Blaine looks up to his left as he feels a warm, strong hand clamp down on his shoulder. There are tears in his father's eyes.

And, for the moment, Blaine suddenly feels like things are going back to being the way they should be again.

**A/N: Okay, so I seriously was just really bored and was listening to "Somewhere Only We Know" on repeat and I wrote the first sentence and well…this happened. I didn't even plan for it to be a fanfic! It just happened! It may have been influence by the fact that I rewatched "Grilled Cheesus" today and had my heart pulverized by Chris Colfer singing "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." And then my mom told me about how she felt when her mom died and everyone was crying… It's been an emotional day…**

**Well, I hope you guys like it and please review to let me know what you think.**

**Love,**

**E. M. Zeray**


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